


Found People

by Jintian



Category: Angel: the Series, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-02
Updated: 2001-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintian/pseuds/Jintian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully goes to Los Angeles to follow a lead on Mulder.</p><p>Crossover -- 2nd season Angel between "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" and "First Impressions" and 8th season X-Files between "Patience" and "Roadrunners."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found People

  
Cordelia was dozing off in the passenger seat, her head drifting down toward her shoulder and hair ruffling with the wind. Angel drove carefully, taking the corners slow so the car's movements wouldn't wake her.

"I don't suppose we could stop for something to eat," Wesley said, leaning forward from the back.

"We could," Angel replied. Around them, L.A. floated past in all its harsh, electric glory. He sometimes thought certain parts of the city could be as bright as day, if day flashed in red and yellow neon.

"I must say it looks as though you were correct about the Hyperion," Wesley continued, his voice pitched low into Angel's ear. "We made quite a bit of progress cleaning today."

"We did," Angel said. He met Wesley's eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded his agreement.

At the drive-through while they waited in the line of cars, Cordy made a sort of groaning noise in her sleep and he looked over. There was a smudge of grease on one high cheekbone, and her normally perfect makeup had long since faded. He felt his lips spread in a smile. He wished he had a camera.

Then the groan turned into a gasp as her eyes flew open and she almost crashed her forehead into the dashboard with the force of sitting up. Her hands clutched at her hair.

Vision.

"Cordy!" Angel turned in his seat and grasped her shoulders, holding her still. Her face was contorted, the grease smudge elongating as a tear rolled down her cheek. Wesley stroked her hair gently, looking alarmed. "It's okay, we're here," Angel murmured, hoping she could hear his voice over her soft cries.

The vision subsided just as the car in front of them pulled ahead. Cordy leaned back against the headrest, whimpering. "I'm okay," she said, sounding like the creak of an old door closing. "But we need to drive. Now."

Angel put the car in gear and spun out of the line. "Where are we going?"

She rubbed her temples. "Shoreway Drive. Hurry."

Wesley waited until she had dried her eyes and let her hands drop to her lap. "What did you see?" he asked.

*

Scully should have been home, safe in her bed. She should have been sleeping peacefully, ready to wake up the next morning and go into the office and solve more cases.

She could say she should have been a lot of things. But instead she was in a rental car at midnight, sitting in a dark alley somewhere in the maze that was Los Angeles, waiting for a man to tell her where Mulder was.

At the end of her first year on the X-Files, she had sat in a car just like this, she and the man called Deep Throat parked behind her, both waiting for Mulder to show up.

Her watch told her the informant was three minutes late. She'd gotten there fifteen minutes early, after circling the block for ten.

It didn't make sense that she was in L.A. of all places, as opposed to Oregon or even -- God help her -- Roswell, New Mexico. But then, nothing really made sense anymore. She had gotten a phone call, she had bought the first plane ticket out, she had left coded messages on Skinner's and the Gunmen's answering machines, she had gone.

An alley in L.A. was better than a day in the basement office, at any rate. Sometimes after hours of shooting facts and theories back and forth with Doggett, she felt like peeling her skin right off. Mulder must have had the patience of an iron-willed saint when they were first partnered.

But then, looking back on the rocky path of their first year together, she supposed he really hadn't.

Suddenly the alley lit up with headlights as a dark car pulled in behind her. Scully picked up her gun from the passenger seat and sat very still. The driver was a pale blur in the rearview mirror, and she couldn't make out his face. Should she get out of the car?

The gun was heavy and cold in her hand.

But no, he had already turned his headlights off and gotten out, was already walking toward her. Scully felt her heart leap. She could see the other driver's face more clearly now as he got closer. He was average-looking, dark hair, wearing a trench coat. Of course. She grimaced. Wouldn't be complete without one of those. He was about five feet away from the trunk of her car when he reached a hand inside his coat.

Just then, another burst of headlights lit the alley as a black convertible screeched to a stop in front of her. Scully watched in shock as three people jumped out of it, two men and a woman. She looked around at her informant.

He was retreating, walking quickly back to his car. Her brain a blur, she pushed the rental's door open and started running.

But he was already far away, sitting behind the wheel, starting the ignition, backing out and turning with a squeal of his tires. She tried desperately to read the numbers off his license plate, knowing in the end it would probably amount to nothing.

Her heart fell down in her chest. Mulder. This could have been the one. Mulder.

Whirling, she rounded on the three people, who were now standing beside her car. "Who are you?" she demanded, whipping out her badge. "You've just interrupted official FBI business."

The man with glasses raised his eyebrows. "F...FBI?"

Her fury was a raging fire. "You have no idea what you've just done."

It was the woman who stepped forward, carefully eyeing the gun still in Scully's hand. Her face was young and earnest. "We're sorry. But we had to. He was after your baby."

Scully stopped and stared at her.

*

The diner was almost blinding with its fluorescent lights and shiny tabletops. Angel set his coffee cup down and noticed that the back of his hand was almost the same color as the Formica. He quickly put it in his lap.

Across from him the woman, Dana Scully, the FBI agent, took a deep breath. "What you're telling me...about this vision...don't get me wrong. I specialize in this kind of thing, in my line of work -- I mean, the kind of thing where people claim..." She stopped and gave Cordelia a long look. "But you have to understand, of course I'm going to feel a measure of suspicion."

Cordy, beside Angel, opened her hands out on the table as if she were showing Agent Scully a page in a book. "Look, if you were talking to a different person I'd know exactly what you were feeling. I mean, if two strange guys --" and here she looked at Angel, "-- _really_ strange guys, and a woman came up to me like that in an alley and I had a gun, it would be shoot first and freak out later. Especially if I had a baby to protect."

At that, Scully blanched.

Cordy continued, "But I've been through too much in my fast young life to deny the truth. The visions are real."

"You mean you've had them before?"

Cordelia's mouth went hard. "Got the WWF Smackdown migraines to prove it. And you should see my hospital bill." Then her face softened, and she glanced over at Angel and Wesley. "The pain is bad, but when you weigh all the issues out, it's worth it. The visions save lives."

"I'm an FBI agent and a scientist," Scully said. "I don't believe things like this without proof." But to Angel's ears, she didn't sound sure of herself.

Cordelia was far better at reading people. "Look," she said, "if you didn't think there was some truth behind what we're saying, you wouldn't be here with us right now."

Scully looked at all three of them with an even gaze. "I'm just not sure it's the kind of truth you're talking about."

She was wary, Angel saw, in the same way Jo had been -- and also, when he looked closer, weary. She looked like she'd been through a million nights like this, staring at coffee at one in the morning trying to figure out why she'd almost lost her life.

"If I may ask," Wesley said, "what do you intend to do now?"

"I'm not sure. That man...he was supposed to have information for me, about someone who's missing."

Angel heard her heartbeat speed up a bit at that, and leaned forward.

"Uh uh," Cordy said. "No way are you thinking about meeting with him again. That guy? Not your friend."

"You said he was after my baby." Scully raised an eyebrow and squared her shoulders. "Did this vision tell you why?"

"No. I only felt your emotions, not his. Or what your emotions would have been, if we hadn't gotten there." Cordy raised a hand to her temple and pressed gently. Under the table, Angel took her other hand.

He cleared his throat. "Do you think that man knows where you're staying? He could try to come after you again."

Scully's eyes met his for the first time. He felt like she was looking through him, cataloging every piece of information she could uncover with that knifelike gaze. She reminded him of Kate now. He wondered if that stare was a requirement of law enforcement.

"I'm not staying anywhere under my own name," Scully answered finally. "I don't see how he could know unless he followed me all the way from D.C., but since he was the one who called me to L.A...." She looked out through the blinds of the window at the parking lot. "Do you think he's following us now?"

Angel shook his head. "I didn't notice anyone. But I don't think it's safe to assume. When did you plan to go back home?"

"I booked the flight for this morning," Scully told him. "I wasn't sure how long I would need to stay here, in case it turned out...." There. Her heartbeat again, like someone suddenly walking faster.

"I think you should come with us tonight," Angel said. He looked at Cordy and Wes for confirmation and they both nodded. "We can keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself," Scully said sharply. "I'm an FBI agent."

"You said that already." Cordy's voice was smooth. "But you were waiting in that alley without backup and without knowing who you were meeting. Not too smart, if you ask me."

"Cordelia," Wesley said, as Scully flushed a furious red. "That was hardly necessary."

"It's necessary if she thinks we're just going to leave her alone." Cordy turned to the older woman. "We help people, Agent Scully. Let us help you."

Angel could feel her wavering, the flush still high in her face but the odd pride and suspicion crumbling just a bit. He put some pressure on it. "Please," he said. "You can trust us."

Scully shook her head. "I don't trust anyone but myself."

Cordelia motioned to Wesley and Angel on either side of her. The diner's flat white light stole all the shadows from her face, making her look strong and young and vital. "But guess what?" she said. "You have to start somewhere."

*

Scully lay awake in the apartment's guest bedroom, stroking the rise of her stomach. For the past half hour she had heard the men's voices floating from the living room, soft and low. It had only just gone quiet a few minutes ago.

The mothering instinct was strong in her already. She was not surprised at that -- it had gotten a taste with Kevin Kryder, roared to life with Emily Sim, and then never really died down. Sometimes she looked at her nephew Matthew and felt a pull so strong it was a wonder she could stand up.

What did surprise her was the simultaneous feeling of fear -- not _for_ the child in her womb, but _of_ it, of its maker.

 _Man or miracle?_ an inner voice screamed. _Man or miracle?_

She imagined the fetus sleeping inside her, pressed up against her spine in a tight developing curl. Mostly without detail, but still -- unmistakably human.

So far it had passed every test she and her first, second and third opinion obstetricians could think of. But the fear was always present, humming darkly at the back of her mind and making her constantly look over her shoulder. Cordelia was right. She should never have come to L.A. alone. Hadn't she learned anything from Mulder?

The apartment was completely silent now, and her mouth was dry. Slowly, Scully got out of bed and made her way out to the hall.

There was a light at the end of it, small and yellow the way a table lamp would be. She padded into the living room on quiet bare feet and there was Angel, sitting in an armchair with a book. He looked like he'd been waiting for her.

He rose noiselessly with a finger over his lips, inclining his head toward the sofa where Wesley was a sleeping huddle beneath a blanket. Then he motioned her toward the kitchen.

Angel pulled a chair out for her at the table and got some bottled water from the refrigerator. She thought she heard him murmur something that sounded like, "Dennis, no." But he didn't speak after that, instead filled a glass with ice, the tiny _chink!_ sounds seeming to echo around the walls. Then he set both in front of Scully and sat, regarding her with dark eyes.

The clock read 3:30 am. "Don't feel like sleeping?" Scully asked.

He shrugged. "I'm usually awake at night."

She nodded and sipped the ice water, letting the cool trickle slide down her throat. "And Cordelia doesn't mind that?"

"What...?" He looked surprised. "Oh. Cordy and I, we just work together."

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling the irony. "That was nosy of me."

He shrugged again. "So, who do you work with? I mean, don't FBI agents usually have partners?"

The unspoken question, why were you alone?

She felt his intent gaze as she answered, "He's back in D.C."

"Really," Angel said.

"Look, we both know I wasn't out there on official business," Scully muttered. "I came here by myself, for my own reasons."

"You said that man had information about someone who's missing."

Scully looked down at the glass, dripping condensation on the table. "I've been searching for my partner. I...had another one. He disappeared a few months ago."

"What happened?"

She drew in a breath. "It was in Oregon. He was investigating a case. He was with our boss, actually. I was back in D.C. From what I can tell, one minute he was there, the next minute...he was gone."

"Do you think someone kidnapped him? Is that why you were meeting this guy?"

A small laugh burst from Scully's throat. "Kidnapped.... Not quite the word I'd use."

Angel waited silently.

"No," she sighed. "I don't know why I was meeting this man. I just. I had to. It was a possibility and I had to investigate it."

"Are you going to keep investigating?"

"This particular lead? Probably not by myself. But I have to keep searching." She stared at her hands, loosely clasped around the glass of water. Something about Angel, how he was listening like every word she said hid another one, pushed her to ask, "Have you ever lost someone?"

He was quiet a moment before answering. "Not like that. Not in a way I didn't know the cause of."

"It's worse, in a way, than if he'd died." Scully's voice was hoarse suddenly, and she took another sip of water. "I've almost lost him so many times, but something always happened. He was always safe, in the end. Now...now I just don't know."

She could see in his face he was searching for something to say. "I can't imagine how hard that must be."

"I couldn't have imagined it either," she said. She didn't know why she was sharing all of this, but he was studying her in a way that hurt so much less than Skinner's concerned looks, or the Gunmen's. He was a stranger, a strange man like Cordelia had said, watching more than speaking, but for some reason that made him the easiest person in the world to talk to. "I was missing too, a few years ago. I was gone for three months, and Mulder.... I never knew what he must have felt, until now."

"What happened to you?" Angel asked, and the way his voice unwrapped the words it seemed like he wasn't just asking about the three months, but about the past seven years, about her entire life.

"I was taken by men from our government. They were abducting women to use as test subjects." She stopped and looked at him. "I know how crazy that sounds." Then she stopped again, listening to that last sentence bounce between them, the same one she'd heard from countless suspects and witnesses.

Angel was leaning forward, looking back at her with a gentle half-smile. "You'd be surprised what I'm willing to believe."

She shook her head and stood. "I should get some sleep. I have an early flight tomorrow." She picked up the glass to put it in the sink, and he reached his hand out to take it from her. Their fingers brushed.

His skin was as cold as the glass. She touched her hand where he had touched her, confused.

He rinsed the water out and set the glass in the drying rack, then leaned against the counter with his hands in his pockets. "Cordelia or Wesley will take you to the airport tomorrow morning," he said. "I...have some other things to do."

Scully pushed aside the confusion. "Thank you," she said. "For this, as well as earlier."

"I just wish there were some other way we could help you. This kind of thing, it's not really what we're used to."

"I wish you could, too," she told him. "I think...I think I'm beginning to lose hope." She caught her breath as she said it. She hadn't admitted it to herself before.

Angel straightened, looking deep into her. "Don't," he said. His voice was certain. "You were found, weren't you?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to sophiahelix, who laughs with me when I traverse the dark side.


End file.
